I sever cement
crack crust
and launch magma
into China.

Stride slices air
sending eddies
like hurricanes
into cities.

I flood my wake
with sweat,
and you will know my presence
by the stink of mortality.

Only giants left breathing,
titans, gods and heroes.
As I run past the unlit horizon
I whisper to the slumbering sun,
and bid him kiss you good morning.

I think I am
therefore I am
in love. You say
you only think you're in love,
I say, therefore I am.

I'd like to pluck you from the speck of a hot Colorado summer,
sprinkle you with ambrosia until you've grown enormous,
then together we could stomp through the cities
laughing, "Let's make that catawampus."

I'd like to tug at one of your shoelaces in the kitchen,
crawl up your arm and then climb into your ear,
shrink you down with a spell's whisper
and together, just disappear.

I'd like to say goodbye to our titanic ways
then goodbye again to the microscopic,
find our regular size in the fall
once all is well.

Your legs on top of mine,
sticky, you recline--
eyes wide on a book,
mine droop low
with the wine in our glasses.
The summer heat
hangs in the drone
of a struggling refrigerator

while accompanied by purr
and the cat’s warm fur,
together a symphony
sounding my lullaby.

a funny feeling it’s
all just fantasy
can’t shake the facts before you
until the
pockets empty
to sort through the change
you have to
trust that it’s there
which isn’t hard
really
you hear the jingle
observe the bulge
but
you still can’t believe
a million dollars’ worth of
quarters
could fit into those
size double zero
jeans

Eyes open too early
taking in only street light
and midnight travelers
through an open window,

so shoulders dig
back into mattress
trying to bury cheeks
into pillow, and pillow into dream.

As I fall softly through feathers
into a dimly lit reality
I am reading perfect word
after perfect word

rolling gently into sentences
stacked into stanzas
traveled by footprints, set
in the slowly falling snow.

At the end of every poem,
I am sitting before a fireplace,
flame dancing on your face
smile hidden by wineglass,
eyes lost in my voice,
hands—mine—
warming every page I turn.

The moonlit snowmen outside
wave as I begin to sweat,
waking finally to early joggers
beating the heat, through my window.